


Five Years Later

by Rita (LFN_Archivist)



Category: La Femme Nikita
Genre: F/M, Season/Series 05 Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-04
Updated: 2018-11-04
Packaged: 2019-08-17 15:17:17
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,327
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16518965
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LFN_Archivist/pseuds/Rita
Summary: This story was originally posted to the LFN Storyboard Archives by Rita.





	Five Years Later

Five years had elapsed since Michael and Nikita had said goodbye at the train station. The toll had been heavy on everyone involved and there had been no rest for the weary. While Nikita had been running Section One, Michael and Adam had been just plain running. 

They both believed that their lives would intertwine again, just not so soon or under such tragic circumstances. 

Michael had originally fled Europe with Adam in tow. He'd heeded Nikita's advice and took his son as far away from Section as possible. 

Every year since they'd begun running, as much as he was loathe to do it, Michael packed up Adam at the end of every school year and moved on. He was still a marked man and to stay in any one place for too long was foolish. The only reason Michael stayed in the various cities as long as he did was to give Adam at least *some* stability by starting and finishing the school year in the same school. 

Five years meant five different schools in five different cities. This year it was a private school in Buffalo, New York. It had been their second US city, but the last one had been on the west coast. As far as Michael could see, the only good thing about the constant moving was that it was giving Adam a chance to see different parts of the world. Still, he'd trade it all in an instant for real stability. Michael knew Adam felt the same, saw it in his son's eyes every time he came home from school on the last day of classes to see their few permanent belongings packed up into boxes. 

Now it was mid April so Michael was already looking for their next destination, smiling slightly at the thought of his Section shadows appreciating the warmer climate of the city he had in mind. His smile faded quickly at the image of Adam's unhappy face that flashed unbidden before him at the not unexpected news of another move. 

How his son managed to adjust so well year after year made Michael proud and sad at the same time. Proud because Adam was able to make new friends and fit in wherever they went. Sad because he had to sever all ties with those same friends every summer. 

For his part, Michael had always been rather reserved. Fifteen years in Section had made him even more distant, letting in just a select few and even then not without an internal struggle against (Section) learned reflexes to 'disengage.' A solitary life was not, fortunately or unfortunately, alien to Michael. 

Over the last five years Michael had developed just one friendship and relationship. The first city Michael had chosen for his and Adam's new life was a suburb of Seattle, a fairly large metropolis on the west coast of the United States. Over the years Michael had saved up quite a nest egg. The original intent had been for him and Simone to use once they were free, something they had dreamed of and planned for. Those dreams and plans had died with his wife as did the hope of freedom from Section but the money was still hidden away, even drawing interest. 

The forced separation from his son upon the completion of his blood cover mission brought Michael to new lows and thoughts of freedom had long been replaced by thoughts of 'ending it all.' 

It was only after Nikita had brought him back from the brink that thoughts of freedom re-entered Michael's mind. It took some time even after they entered into an 'intimate relationship' but he and Nikita finally trusted each other enough to share their dreams and hopes for the future. The talk of picket fences and minivans they'd had during Michael's brief return to Section was nothing new. It was the shared dream that had spurred Michael to plan for a life outside of Section, this time for him and Nikita. 

Michael's various accounts collectively held more than enough money to live off comfortably for the rest of his life, and beyond. Even still, Nikita had slipped him some papers before they said their goodbye at the train station. Among the papers were documents that further ensured his financial well-being for a long time to come. 

Adam was never part of that dream. Not because they didn't want him in their lives, but because they didn't think it was possible or even right. Adam deserved to grow up free from a father who'd only endanger him. It was only after finding out that Elena had died and that the existence of Adam was not as secret as it was supposed to be did Michael believe that Adam's place was with him. 

Perhaps if Michael had shared his plans with Nikita, things might have been different now. Perhaps if Nikita knew that there was a very real chance for the *both* of them on the outside she wouldn't have made the decision to set him free while remaining behind herself. Perhaps had their combined actions been different, Nikita would not be bound to the Agency by honor and duty while he remained on the run. 

It didn't take long after his (and Adam's) 'freedom' from the organization for Michael to acknowledge a fundamental truth about himself. He missed 'the job.' He'd begun to recognize something was missing after the abeyance mission to set him 'free' the first time. He'd confirmed it after only a few months on the run with Adam. 

Michael missed the adrenaline rush. Not the adrenaline rush during a mission, but rather the one *after* a mission. Upon signing off on debriefs or watching certain parts of the news was when the adrenaline rush he missed hit. Seeing 'on paper' that his actions had made a difference in the world Adam would grow up in was what Michael had discovered drove him even more than ambition, certainly more than any thirst for power. 

But it was too late now. For everyone. Nikita had given her word that she would follow the path her father had chosen for her. She'd done it to save his life. He owed it to her to at least live that life, even though he'd discovered yet another fundamental truth that could have only come to the forefront after he'd admitted the first one. 

The dream that Michael and Nikita had shared hadn't been his. Michael thought he wanted a 'normal' life, but the truth was he just wanted a life with Nikita, one that would make *her* happy. Picket fences and cocker spaniels were Nikita's ideal, not his. How ironic that Michael was living Nikita's dream while she was living his. 

But again, it was too late. Michael still remembered Jones' pat on his shoulder before the older man walked across the bridge and faced his executioners. It had been an apology and a reminder all in one. An apology that it had to come to this and a reminder that Michael was a man of honor and had no right to deny Nikita and her father's theirs. 

Michael had known establishing ties of any kind with any one was not a good idea, but after eight months of watching his son settling in to their new, albeit temporary, home Michael 'gave in.' 

Looking for a distraction Michael, against his better judgment, began to develop a relationship with a single mother five years his junior as well as friendships with some of the parents of Adam's classmates and (soccer and hockey) teammates. Things were fine for a month or so, but then natural curiosity stepped in and the questions started. It was the suburbs, after all. Neighbors and friends' curiosity became dangerous and precipitated Michael and Adam's first move. 

Michael had never repeated the same mistake twice and he certainly wouldn't start now, not when his son's life was on the line. After that first move Michael made sure that the neighborhoods they lived in were more exclusive and secluded, neighbors separated by wrought iron gates and long driveways that discouraged interaction. 

Michael also never hooked up with another woman for more than one night. Yes, it was dangerous to get too close to someone, but Michael had an even more compelling reason to never go beyond the occasional one night stand. He found that he hated waking up with anyone other than Nikita by his side. 

So, while Adam still played with his friends his father was hardly ever seen, always busy with work. Of course, it wasn't really a lie because Michael *was* busy working. He may not have needed the money, but Michael did need something to do other than keeping an eye on the shadow team on him and Adam. 

Michael therefore decided to start his own business, something he knew - security consulting. Michael's skills facilitated the business becoming quite lucrative, providing as much of a nest egg as his and Nikita's 'savings' combined. 

Recognition wasn't even a problem. In this day and age of the internet and electronic mail it was relatively easy to stay anonymous. Most of what Michael needed, blueprints, personnel records, etc., could easily be sent via computer requiring very limited personal contact. In the rare instance that an appearance *was* needed Michael used the prosthetics Nikita had taught him how to use, courtesy of the late Dr. Kraft. 

All in all, it was a relatively peaceful but lonely five years for father and son. Michael could only hope that Nikita was doing better. He couldn't bring himself to hack into Section because it would compromise Nikita's trust and faith in him. He'd contented himself with Walter's monthly messages, so all Michael knew was that she was still Operations but a promotion to Oversight was imminent. 

******** 

Nikita's time in Section was finally almost up. She'd spent five long years battling to make and keep the changes she had wanted for the seven years she'd been 'imprisoned' there as an operative. She gave the appearance of ruthlessness as she'd been taught, but held on to her humanity and did the best she could. 

Constantly under a microscope from above, she nevertheless flourished. Section's numbers under Nikita had been higher than under her predecessor. 

At first Nikita despaired that she would be able to step into the role of Operations. The respect Mr. Jones had commanded when he was alive and in charge kept his colleagues from acting too soon but they were running out of patience. Nearly a month and Nikita and Section were on a downward spiral with no end to the trend in sight. 

The numbers were so low that structural integrity was in jeopardy. Another week, two at the most, and Nikita would have to be replaced. The truth of the matter was that regardless of the feeling towards Nikita's father, she would have *already* been replaced except for one thing: they didn't have anyone better. Michael was gone and Madeline was dead. 

The Colleagues, as they were appropriately named, were prepared to promote two other Section heads to co-lead One when Nikita suddenly came out of her 'funk.' How she came out of it was a mystery, but come out of it she did. 

Unbeknownst to all but Walter, Nikita received a message on a 'special' PDA that she had all but forgotten about. 

"We'll be able to communicate . . . from anywhere." Michael had told her when he gave Nikita the PDA all those years ago. It had been a very twisted road they'd gone down since then, neither imagining they'd end up with their roles reversed. 

This time there was no message to run, but rather two sentences that brought Nikita out of her funk _"Protect the innocents. For us. Stay safe. For me."_ A succinct reminder of two things. One, that she had the chance to do it 'their' way, the way they had discussed when things were particularly rough and they envisioned the day *they* would be in charge. They had imagined Michael in command and Nikita by his side. Now it was up to Nikita to do it 'right' for the both of them. 

The second part of the message is what had made Nikita smile for the first time since the exchange on the bridge and the assassination of her father. A reminder to do what she had to do to stay alive and safe until 'someday,' when she and Michael could be together again. 

Nikita had held unto that PDA for two weeks before she gave it to the only person in Section she trusted - Walter. As much as it had sustained her and brought her back from the brink just when she needed it the most, Nikita couldn't bear to look at it any longer. 

Instead of comforting her, it reminded her of what couldn't be. If she was to continue on her promised path, the path her father had set for her in his own blood, Nikita couldn't afford to dwell on what could have been. She'd have to content herself to placing a shadow team on Michael and Adam to make sure that 'someday' still had a chance to happen. Nikita selected only the best for that duty and for safety precautions, changed teams as often as Michael and Adam moved. 

Nikita had given the PDA to Walter to destroy so there would be no evidence of continued communication and no reminder of where she *really* belonged. Walter though, couldn't do it and instead sent monthly messages to Michael letting him know that Nikita was doing fine. 

Like Michael, Nikita's existence was a lonely one. If it wasn't for Walter, and to a lesser degree Jason, Nikita wouldn't even have had anyone to trust in Section. She began to understand her predecessors' paranoia and constant testing of their operatives' skills and loyalty. She may have understood it, but Nikita did not succumb to it. 

While fear would always have to be a motivating factor for loyalty and survival to some degree, Nikita had slowly but surely developed loyalty through respect as well. Section may still not have been the ideal workplace, but living conditions did improve dramatically. 

The abeyance pool had been significantly modified. True rehabilitation had been introduced and many who would have been sent there under the old regime to never return, were coming back and succeeding where they previously failed. 

Nikita realized that the pool could never be fully eradicated, but at least the operatives there 'deserved' it. The smaller number of available abeyance ops did not cause a problem either. Nikita made sure all her profilers understood that all profiles must maximize operative and civilian survival. She culled profilers from other arms of the Agency and tripled the number of profilers in Section One. 

By increasing their numbers and decreasing their workload, the profilers were able to spend more time on each profile, ensuring maximum 'return.' Acceptable collateral had consequently decreased in proportion to the decreased number of available abeyance ops. The extra 'payroll' burden of these profilers were offset by the increased survival rate of field operatives which alleviated the need for, and expense of, such a large number of new recruits. 

The number of surveillance ops in Section One also shrunk as a result of a policy Nikita had tried out with Jasmine (former Section Eight operative) even before she had become Operations. More freedom and less surveillance proved to be an excellent incentive for many operatives to 'shape up.' They no longer felt like they were living in a fishbowl or worried about everything they did and said being misconstrued. Surveillance was gradually limited to abeyance operatives, trainees, probation operatives and those under 'suspicion.' 

These were just the highlights of the changes Nikita had made, all while maintaining, even surpassing, Section's typical success rate. 

On a personal front, Nikita had never developed another close friendship, let alone a relationship of any kind. Walter had been her best friend for these last five years. Jason had also become a friend, but not nearly as close as his late brother had been. 

Just like Michael, Nikita hated waking up with anyone by her side besides him. Over the five years she'd been running Section, her 'affairs' numbered just above the single digits. Even then, they were just one-timers, Nikita leaving well before dawn. All in all, her existence had been as lonely as Michael's. 

Ironically, Nikita had just been promoted to Oversight and was reflecting on all that had transpired over the last twelve years in between these walls (and the walls of the previous, blown-up Section) while taking care of last minute details when she got the call. 

******** 

After six years an old Section One enemy finally took their revenge. In one of the last missions before the completion of Section's evaluation all those years ago, Section thwarted Black Storm's plans and set them back at least four years.

In the last two years Black Storm had been resurrected from the ashes, gaining momentum and prominence each time a rival terrorist organization fell to Section One. But they had never forgotten the two responsible for thwarting their plans six years ago in Tennessee by taking out one of their sleeper cells and the critical intel they had acquired. The organization had lost four years because of that episode and were just now starting to become a force to be reckoned with in the terrorist community. Unfortunately, the opportunity for revenge had never presented itself. 

Until now. 

Their luck had actually turned eighteen months ago, albeit accidentally. Simpson, a relatively new recruit had provided enough information to put them on the scent. He had been drifting from one 'organization' to another, never feeling like he fit in until he found common ground with them. 

One of the organizations Simpson had drifted in and out of had been called the Collective. He'd gotten out of there about four and a half years ago, just before they were destroyed by Section. 

As is common amongst any large group, members talk amongst themselves and trade tales of days gone by. Simpson was no different. One day, while hanging around with other members of his shift after hours he'd told the story of the Collective's greatest moment, the assassination of Center's leader. 

From there it wasn't long before all the details of what had transpired to bring about this feather in the Collective's cap came out, including the fact that one of Black Storm's most wanted was quite obtainable. One of the two operatives they'd held responsible for their misfortunes all those years were fairly unreachable, comfortably ensconced as Section One's leader. The other, Simpson had said, was rumored to have been cast out and was now on his own with a son in tow, no less. 

It took almost a year and a half, but Black Storm's quarry had finally been found, along with the current shadow team watching Michael and Adam. 

Taking out the Section team that Nikita had sent to watch over Michael and the now almost teenage Adam was not as difficult as they had believed. Having been in place for almost a year with nothing more dangerous than dodging rush hour traffic while following Michael to Adam's extracurricular activities, the team had become extremely complacent. 

It had been quiet for so long that they had foolishly dropped their guard. A fatal mistake. Black Storm came in, fifteen men strong on one unseasonably cold spring night, and the four-member bodyguard detail was dead before they had a chance to radio in to headquarters. 

Black Storm then surrounded the house that had been Michael and Adam's home for the last ten months and fired knock-out gas filled mini-rockets. The gas was extremely potent. Adam had been asleep at the time and didn't feel a thing, succumbing right away. Michael himself, also asleep, was barely able to rouse and reach under the pillow for his gun before he fell back on the bed unconscious. 

Wanting more than just revenge, Black Storm took their hostages back to their headquarters instead of killing them. While Michael Samuelle may have been out of the game for five years, they figured he could still no doubt provide useful information. 

Michael's captors began working him over with beatings. However, no drugs were used because they wanted him fully coherent. They knew Michael wouldn't break when his own life was on the line, and so the beatings were merely for revenge. Tomorrow they would bring his son before him and make Michael watch as they tortured his son if Michael did not 'cooperate.' 

Unfortunately for Black Storm, they had made a fatal mistake with one of their own. One of their members was a mole for Section. 

Monitoring Michael and Adam's 'bodyguards' was a job Nikita had given to the only person in Section that she trusted with their lives - Walter. When the shadow team failed to report in for their daily check in Walter went over to Comm. and asked Jason to pull up the team's bio trackers. 

Going into the personnel files and keying the access codes and ID numbers, Jason pulled up the four operatives' trackers on the bio monitor above him. As soon as the data loaded Jason and Walter glanced at each other briefly before Walter quickly made his way to the Tower, where he knew Nikita would be. 

Meanwhile, Jason, in sole command in Comm. for the last four years, went back into the four dead operatives' files to see what mission they had been on. However, when he tried to access their current status, he hit a wall. A warning message flashed that access was for Operations' eyes only. Considering the look on Walter's face Jason thought it best not to trespass at this time. 

Not five minutes later their outgoing leader stalked into Comm. and gave Jason latitude and longitude coordinates, ordering him to scan that area for any satellite that could have picked up activity in the last twenty four hours. Seeing the look on his boss's face, Jason knew better than to make any comments at this time or ask which satellites to search. Instead, other than to say "yes, ma'am" he kept his mouth shut and searched the databanks of every organization or corporation that employed satellites. 

Once the orders were out of her mouth Nikita sat at one of the other terminals rather than wasting any time going back to the Perch and began assembling a team. By the time she had picked the operatives she would take with her, Jason, still in the dark, had found seven separate satellites that had been aimed at the area in question over the last day. Piecing together data from all the satellites, Jason paled when he realized what was going on. He immediately showed his findings to Nikita whose expression rivaled that of Michael in his 'Terminator' mode. 

Nikita then gave Jason a disc and ordered him to gather the personnel requested on it for a personal mission. Participation was strictly voluntary. As soon as the disc was in Jason's hand Nikita headed for the Perch and prepared herself for the bargaining she knew would commence once Center got wind of what she was about to do. 

Thirty minutes later Nikita came out of the Perch headed for Munitions, the inventory already sent ahead to Walter. By the time she reached him, Walter was well aware of her intentions. Rather than engaging in a useless argument to convince her to send someone else, Walter outfitted her and the teams she was taking with her with the latest and best hardware Section had. 

Every name on the list Nikita had given Jason agreed to participate on this mission even though it was personal and there would be no repercussions for saying no. Such was the respect and loyalty Nikita had commanded as Operations. The three six man teams had been assembled and on their way in less than 45 minutes. 

By the time the three Section teams, led by Nikita, arrived at the site of the abduction Jason had come through with a preliminary report. Combined with the small amount of evidence they found on site, they had enough to direct them towards Black Storm. 

Once the determination had been made, Jason pulled up the deep cover directory and found their Black Storm mole. Nikita and her teams were waiting silently in the two vans that they had transported by plane and driven to this remote location. She'd left the two medical technicians behind with the plane. 

While they waited, Nikita's thoughts drifted. She remembered the surprise she felt when she found out that Michael had chosen such a remote location. His and Adam's previous couple of residences had been gated and isolated, rather than out-of-the-way This farmhouse he had chosen was more like what they had talked about one day sharing. Far from everyone and everything. 

Nikita was now grateful for the choice. The remoteness of the location was a blessing. There was no one to hear or see what had transpired during the night. No one to ask questions about what had happened to their neighbors or interfere with the 'investigation.' 

Nikita was meanwhile, also silently berating herself. She blamed herself for not destroying Black Storm four years ago when the opportunity had presented itself. Resources and dependent personnel had still been slim and other, bigger players had taken priority at the time. But, the knowledge that the perpetrators had once been within reach, burned within Nikita. She vowed that she would correct the mistake she believed she had made. 

Before Nikita's misplaced guilt could overwhelm her, Jason's voice came over a private channel on her comm. unit. He'd located their Black Storm mole via the operative's modified clock and sent the predetermined signal to contact Section immediately. 

Less than two minutes later, at Black Storm's headquarters, one of their mid ranking members slipped out of the main room where a couple dozen members were watching an old enemy being punished on the monitors. 

He went outside, pretending to get some air and removed a sliver of metal, smaller than a dime, from underneath his fingernail. He contacted Section and was put through to Nikita immediately. She ordered him to download the schematics of their headquarters, including the area where they held prisoners and wait for her arrival. She would send two pulses through his tracker when they were on site. 

Knowing better than to argue with his superior, the Section operative did as he was told. From the tone of her voice and the wording of her orders, the operative understood that his long term mission to gather intel on not only Black Storm, but their suppliers, contacts and allies did not matter any longer. His mission as well as the existence of Black Storm would be over shortly after Nikita arrived. 

******** 

Less than twenty-four hours after the abduction, Nikita and eighteen of Section's best operatives surrounded Black Storm's compound. Knowing exactly where both Michael and Adam were being held for the night, they crept in silently and dispatched everyone in their way. Every operative understood and willingly accepted that failure was not an option on this mission. 

Nikita led the rescue herself, planting charges all along the compound as they went. Their mole was waiting near the cells where they were keeping Michael and Adam, having already planted his share of charges as well, later earning a promotion for his prudence. Unfortunately, before they could reach him, Black Storm 'woke up' and a fire-fight ensued. 

Making their way inside, Nikita and three of her team members finally met up with their inside man and followed him to the cells. Again ingress wasn't clear forcing them to shoot their way in. Once inside they found both Michael and Adam alert and ready, having woken up from the noise of the rescue. 

Although the beating he'd been subjected to was substantial, Michael wasn't about to let his injuries keep him down at this stage of the game. Once he and Adam had been released from their cells, Michael and Nikita exchanged a brief glance before Nikita wordlessly handed him her extra weapon and clips. 

Nikita then turned and led the way out. Egress wasn't pretty. Once at the exit Nikita gave the order for the teams outside to give them cover fire. Michael made sure to keep Adam behind him every step of the way, effectively acting as a shield for his son. 

Nikita had taken only the best with her, but three Section operatives were already down. The rest were happy to hear the retreat order Nikita gave as soon as they were clear of the converted warehouse that had been Black Storm's base of operations for the last six months. 

Two minutes later an explosion rocked Black Storm's headquarters as the rescued captives, along with Nikita and the remaining Section operatives, neared the two Section vans parked outside the perimeter. 

Just as they were about to enter the van, three hostiles appeared from the surrounding forest, guns at the ready. They knew their comrades were dead and were themselves on a kamikaze mission, vowing to take as many of their enemy down with them before they were cut down. Seeing that Adam was one of the targets, Michael fired his gun while simultaneously jumping in front of his son.

Michael's shot found its mark, but so did the Black Storm operative's that shot at Adam. Of course, the one shot was all the hostile was able to fire. He was dead before he hit the ground, as were his two remaining comrades who were sprayed with return fire from Section. 

Dropping down to check on Michael, Nikita saw Michael had been hit in the abdomen. Even a vest wouldn't have protected him from the armor piercing bullet that went straight through and a race against time to save Michael's life ensued. 

The return trip to the airstrip had been tense and silent, cursory first aid applied to an unconscious Michael to staunch the alarming flow of blood while Adam watched with tears rolling down his face. 

The medical technicians were waiting and did what they could to stabilize Michael until they reached Section. Nikita had insisted that they return to Section and no where else. It was where she felt 'safest.' 

Once they reached Section, Michael was immediately wheeled into surgery, the prognosis for his recovery grim. Even though she knew they would do their best Nikita wasn't taking any chances and took a page out of the late Madeline's book. She convinced medlab personnel that it was in their best interest that Michael not die. If they wanted to live then they better make damn sure that he did, too. 

Nikita, Adam and Walter took turns keeping a steady vigil by Michael's bedside ensuring that he was never alone. Adam, of course, wasn't allowed to venture too far outside of medlab for security purposes. He'd seen too much as it was. For his part, the only thing that mattered to Adam was his father's recovery. All the questions could wait until that was assured. 

It had been touch and go for seventy two hours until the head surgeon upgraded Michael from critical to stable. There were many still working in medlab who remembered Michael's aversion to the place and penchant for leaving before he was supposed to when he was an operative. Consequently, they'd kept him under heavy sedation for another forty-eight hours, ensuring that he 'stayed still' until his body recovered some more. 

Five days after he'd been shot Michael finally opened his eyes and was greeted by the blue eyed gaze of Nikita, who'd just taken over sitting with him from an exhausted Adam. 

"Welcome back." Nikita smiled, the tears falling freely. 

"Adam?" Michael asked hoarsely, blinking and trying to focus. Even though it had been five years Michael still recognized medlab. 

"Sleeping." Nikita answered, picking up the cup of water laying on the table by the bed. "He's fine. He, Walter and I have been taking turns with you." She explained as Michael took the cup carefully, slowly sitting then drinking from the straw. She took it back from him after he'd gotten his fill and put it back in its place as Michael slid back down onto the pillow, the effort of just sitting up and drinking exhausting him. 

"Thank you." 

"I couldn't have done otherwise." Nikita replied, understanding that he wasn't just referring to the water. Their connection was still strong, even after all the years apart. 

"What have you told Adam?" Michael asked, needing to get that out of the way first. 

"Nothing yet." Nikita answered. "He's been more concerned with your recovery than his surroundings." 

"Oversight?" 

"What about it?" Nikita asked, although she had the feeling that Michael knew all about her recent promotion. 

"When were you due to arrive?" Michael asked, confirming Nikita's suspicion. 

"Doesn't matter." Nikita evaded. 

"Yes. It does." Michael sighed. "You shouldn't have brought me here." 

"Would you rather be dead?" Nikita asked, throwing Michael's long ago words back at him. 

"You know what I mean." 

"I know the people here. They're the only ones I trust with your life." Nikita answered, remembering the 'extra incentive' she'd introduced to the medical staff upon their return from Black Storm's headquarters. 

"Adam and I have compromised you." Michael reproved gently. 

"I'm taking care of it." Nikita countered. 

"How?" 

"They need me. And they know it." Nikita answered. "So they had no choice but to leave it to me to handle." 

"At what cost?" Michael asked. 

Before Nikita could answer that question, the intercom in the wall by the door to Michael's room came to life and a disembodied voice informed Nikita that she was wanted in Committee. The fact that she wasn't warned or told who was behind the summons made Nikita believe one of her late father's colleagues had arrived, something that hadn't happened in over a year. Center had developed a more hands-on approach in the last five years but, a visit from one the Colleagues was still a very rare occurrence. 

"I'll be back soon." Nikita promised Michael then added tenderly, barely suppressing the urge to touch him in reassurance. "Get some rest." 

Michael stared sadly at Nikita's retreating form knowing that contrary to what she might have been told, the proverbial piper had to get paid and his instincts were telling him that Nikita was about to find out what saving his and Adam's lives was going to cost her. 

******** 

Arriving in committee Nikita was not surprised to find one of the Colleagues. There were four of them now, three men and one woman. They'd replaced her father immediately but were apparently unhappy with their choice because three years later the man was gone. They still hadn't replaced him but rather divided up his responsibilities amongst themselves. 

This time it was the woman, known only as M, who was waiting for Nikita. 

"Hello, Nikita." M greeted cordially with her clipped British accent. 

"M." Nikita returned respectfully then got right down to business. "What can I do for you?" 

"You still haven't reported to Oversight." 

"And I won't until Michael recovers well enough for him and Adam to leave." 

"That's part of the problem." 

"It's not a problem." 

"Yes it is." M countered harshly. "You were just lucky you were able to contain it. What about next time?" 

"It won't happen again." Nikita assured. "The shadow team will not fail again." 

"It *will* happen again." M sighed. "Michael will be a marked man until the day he dies. If Black Storm found him, someone else will, too." 

"Cancellation is *not* an option." Nikita returned, her features set in stone, guessing where her superior was headed. 

"If we ordered it, it *would* be carried out." M returned. "Everyone is still replaceable, including you." 

"Is that a warning or merely a threat?" 

"Reality." M countered. "However, that's not an avenue we are considering at this time." 

"What *are* you considering?" Nikita asked. Regardless of the positive changes wrought over the years, Nikita had no doubt that they were quite capable of dangling Michael and Adam's well being in front of her to ensure her continued compliance. 

"A proposition." M replied. As Nikita had said, they *did* need her. While the young woman may not have been ready for Center, it didn't appear as though anyone else was either. Their last choice had lasted only three years before they had to take over themselves. In the two years since they had split up the governing of the Agency amongst themselves not a single candidate had been found. 

The Colleagues had all risen to their positions in spite of never wanting them in the first place. Now though, those whose were good enough to consider for Jones' vacated position had the ambition and the drawbacks that came with it. That same problem had been plaguing them in selecting a replacement for Nikita in Section One when they decided she was ready for Oversight. 

If Oversight itself hadn't had its share of problems they'd have left Nikita in Section. As it was the Colleagues had to settle for co-leaders, not trusting either one of their choices on their own. 

When Nikita had asked permission, or rather told them that she was going after Michael personally, the Colleagues had resisted the idea. They agreed that a team should be sent but not that she should be a part of it. Truth be told they wanted to send their own team to cancel both the man and his son. Having him alone and on the run was too dangerous, as had just been proven. Nikita was surely aware of their mind-set on the issue and argued vehemently against sending any one she couldn't trust. Of course, she wasn't quite that blunt about it, but... 

After nearly ten minutes of debate Phelps, who with Jones death became the senior member of the group, called a halt and told Nikita that they would get back to her shortly and not to do *anything* in the meantime. 

There was a good reason why Phelps had been around as long as he had and he'd shown once again why. His idea had been to kill two birds with one stone. It didn't take long for the rest of them to see the wiseness of his plan and in less than five minutes he'd had them convinced and Nikita had gotten the go-ahead to lead the rescue herself. Although M didn't doubt for a minute that the woman now standing (apparently) calmly before her would have gone with or without 'permission.' 

"What did you have in mind?" Nikita asked, shaking M out of her momentary reverie. 

"You want Michael and his son well protected." M answered. "We're willing to do that for a price." 

"Which is?" Nikita asked, dreading the answer. 

"His return to Section. As your replacement." M replied then forestalled Nikita's objections, phrasing her comments calculatedly. "Think it through. Do not be selfish." 

"Selfish?" Nikita asked incredulously. 

"The quality of life that can be enjoyed as Operations' son is far batter and more stable than a life on the run, hoping that the past won't catch up again." M paused, giving Nikita a moment to absorb this before she continued. "As good as your father was, he *wasn't* infallible." 

"What do you mean?" 

"He misjudged your former mentor and his value to the organization." M explained. "He believed that too much of your predecessors had been entrenched into Michael's psyche after ten years in their service to run Section the way it should be. Watching you, as well as some others, over the last five years has proven him wrong." 

"I don't understand." 

"If it had been just you who had developed so commendably, we would have considered it a singularity. However, we have followed the careers of other of Michael's former trainees in the organization and their skills and performance are, for the most part, exemplary as well. It's no secret that he was well on his way to one day assuming command anyway." 

"The key word is *was.* He's on a different path now." Nikita argued. 

"Perhaps." M conceded. "But shouldn't the decision be his?" 

******** 

As expected, Michael was alert and awake when Nikita came back into his medlab room, M following behind. 

Once the introductions were made, M laid out the Colleagues proposition to Michael. She explained exactly what they wanted and expected. But M also explained the 'benefits' of coming back into the fold. 

The quality of life in Section One had improved dramatically since Nikita took over and there was no reason why that improvement would not be extended to the new Operations. The job may never be 9 to 5 but, once a competent second in command was trained, it wouldn't be an 18 hour day either. It was also a lot safer for Adam to grow up with the full support of the Agency behind his protection rather than just Michael himself. 

M finished by telling Michael to think it over, she needed an answer by the morning. Regardless of Michael's feelings on the matter she knew that Michael would not do or say anything before he had a chance to talk to Nikita. Before she left M stated diplomatically that perhaps it would be a good idea for the two of them to discuss the feasibility of Michael working under Nikita. 

Unlike Nikita, Michael didn't need much convincing but he hid his feelings behind his blank mask, still impressive even after five years away from section and the need for it. M couldn't see behind it, but Nikita could. Even after all the time apart they still knew each other too well. 

"You want this." Nikita stated knowingly after she had attached an audio and visual scrambler on the wall 'just in case.' 

"Yes." Michael replied candidly, still sitting up and refusing to slide back down on the pillows even though he was still weak after his ordeal. 

"You don't mind me being the boss?" 

"As long as I'm not under orders to please you." Michael answered then amended. "Inside of Section, at least." 

THE END 

EPILOGUE 

The older Englishman sat at the table underneath the umbrella staring out over the ocean. An American, just slightly younger than him joined him at his private beach. 

"The offer has been accepted." Phelps remarked after he sat down. 

"Good. It's unfortunate that my mistake cost the Agency five years." 

"We all make mistakes. I listened to you back then, didn't I?" Phelps tried to lighten his old friend's mood. "Besides, it worked out well anyway. Your daughter did a good job with Section with no support and there's no doubt she will do as well in Oversight." 

"I never did thank you for the latex masks." Jones suddenly remembered, the conversation bringing to mind the last time he had seen his daughter and the promise he had exacted from her. 

"Not necessary." Phelps returned. "In fact I should have thanked *you* for the request." 

"Why?" 

"Bernie was quite happy to come out of retirement to create them. So much so, that he never went back." Phelps explained. 

"Fortunate for our side." Jones smiled. 

"Yes, quite." Phelps smiled briefly then returned to the matter at hand. "I'm hoping things work out. Maybe once Nikita takes your place I can start planning my own retirement.. A little quieter than *your* exit, of course. If all goes well, I think he'll be able to do my job." 

"You believe Michael Samuelle has what it takes to join the Colleagues?" 

"Yes. But time will tell for certain." Phelps returned. "Are you ever going to see your daughter again?" 

"Perhaps one day." Jones reflected. "After she's become comfortable and content with her responsibilities."


End file.
